


Shower Self Love

by greenJeanKirstein



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: (no actual violence but just Herald thinking about having trained fighting), Bruises, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Other, Praise Kink, Scent Kink, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenJeanKirstein/pseuds/greenJeanKirstein
Summary: After working out and training how to fight, Herald flies home. A certain scent catches his nose and he cannot get it out of his mind. The scent leads to some erotic thoughts and Herald takes the matters into his own hands.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Shower Self Love

Flying through the air, as he did so usually, Herald took in the air. The air was not fresh, no, but there was something exhilarating about not being tied down to the ground. Or perhaps there was something exciting about being able to see everything from so high up; at least it gave him a different perspective of the city. The occasional breeze was a welcome change from the hot weather too.

Suddenly, a whiff of something hit him, from where he knew not. Minty...wooden undertones… In his nose one second and gone the next. Sure, people wore cologne and perfumes and those body sprays, Ortega had one of them stashed in the Ranger’s HQ and would sometimes spray the fruit-scented mist into the lounge areas. But up here this high? It was not his cologne for sure, that much he knew. Had someone bumped into him?

Herald gave himself a cursory sniff as he flew back towards home. No, he still smelled of sweat after having worked out with Eckhart, with maybe a little bit of his own deodorant thrown into the mixture. Perhaps he was just remembering something or he was imagining things. Yes, that’s what it was, what else could it be. Just his imagination.

He landed, smiling a bit as he thought back to the workout. His body ached, he still limped quite terribly, but he was no longer pulling his punches as much and Eckhart had praised him for managing to use his posture to his advantage and for relying on his once-broken leg again. His leg still hurt a bit, as if it had the memory of being broken… but that did not matter at all. It felt amazing to be praised by his former hero, someone he used to look up to and who he still looked up to now. 

As Daniel undressed and flew to the shower, leaving a pile of sweaty clothes in front of the washing machine, he kept smiling, almost giddy with excitement. Eckhart had praised him a lot today. Eckhart had told Daniel that he was improving quickly, had smiled and patted Daniel’s shoulder after he had tackled Eckhart and they both had fallen onto the ground. So what if Eckhart had been on top of him in a couple of seconds, hand around his throat, moving more on instinct than on what he should have, but Daniel didn’t mind. Eckhart had apologised, had checked him for injuries and had suggested he put some ice packs onto his sore body. He had even praised Daniel more, had told him to rest! Had told him not to treat his body like an unbreakable machine. They both knew it could break. And what more, Daniel thought, opening the door to the shower, still giddy with the after-workout energy, Eckhart had asked him about how his knee was healing, and had suggested where he could buy a brace to wear at home if he wanted to put more weight onto it to get more used to it.

The hot water that washed over him let another waft of mint and wood scent enter his nose. What  _ was _ that scent? Where had it come from and how was it still on his body and his mind? Had he bumped into someone in the store the other day and his brain was reminding him of them? Was it the perfume of that young woman who had asked him for a selfie when he was last in uniform and who had gotten very close? That had been yesterday though… Would his brain really remember that so well?

His brain seemed to have other ideas though. The workout had left him a bit flustered. Eckhart really had climbed into his lap that quickly and it had been a surprise to them both, Eckhart apologising as he got off of Daniel’s lap. And it had definitely been too long since he had had anyone over - it was too easy to find someone who wanted him because he was Herald the hero and too hard to find someone who wanted Daniel the daring in bed. His own hand would have to do.

His hand was slippery from the soap and the water and he muffled a moan as he ran a hand down his body, wrapping his fingers around his cock. Another hand stayed on his chest, for now, smoothing over the soft skin, where it was taut over his muscles. He closed his eyes, focusing on the scent that his brain had now so politely reminded him of again. Minty… 

_ A minty breath blowing air against his ear, chuckling softly; a hand on Daniel’s shoulder, wondering where he got the bruise. Touching, prodding. The hand moving to his face, gently caressing the remnants of a black eye almost proudly, proud of Daniel for learning, for fighting, for getting better. Praising him for having worked out, for having gotten the shit kicked out of him, almost. Running a thumb over his lips and then into his mouth, another kiss against his cheek when he licks the thumb and suckles on it. A hand moving down, tracing the bruises once more, quieting Daniel’s complaints with more kisses.  _

He opened his eyes to look at the bruises all over his body. They were spoils of war, sort of, but he knew plenty of people who were turned on by violence. Had he not been dating Argent, even if it was mostly for the press? People liked very different things. Or they were experimenting, learning about new things to like. 

Daniel touched a particularly angry bruise on his stomach, stroking his cock in a languid pace. He could experiment a bit. He wasn’t in a hurry. Hell, even if he was, he could enjoy himself a little. Ortega and Chen both worked too hard; did he want to end up like them? All work no play? He closed his eyes again, turning the pressure of the water lower but keeping it the same warmth. He did not want to think of Chen or Ortega when he had his cock in his hand. 

_ Another minty breath, this time against his lips. Fingers, long and experienced, moving lower still, caressing and tickling his stomach, making him laugh and moan, wrapping around his cock. Stroking. There’s time. A body covering his own, pressing close, thumb playing with the tip of his cock, teasing the slit. A bit of musk and wood too, in his nose, as he’s pressed against the wall, not too suddenly, almost softly. Legs spread wide, better stance, better access. The voice whispers praises into his ear as he does not wince when their knees knock into each other. Daniel moans, reaching up to cover his mouth. The hand that catches his is fast. Fingers entangling, for a second, and then a squeeze around his cock, deliciously hard and sudden. Faster now, slippery, sneaky fingers, stroking firm and fast, up and down, then languidly taking their time, a forefinger tracing the vein down to the head of his cock. Another hand cupping his testicles, as if weighing them, calculating, trying to find a weakness to exploit.  _

He had to interrupt himself to grab some of the lube he secretly kept in the bathroom cabinet. Naked and hard, he hovered to the cabinet, grabbed the lube, and floating back under the warm water, squeezed a generous amount of lube into his palm. Although he liked some friction, it was nicer when everything was slippery. Faster, too. And occasionally… more  _ fun _ and  _ explorative _ . 

_ He’s pressed against the cold wall firmly as the slippery hands stroke and massage and occasionally squeeze. His nose is filled with the scent - peppermint, some kind of wood, a bit of musk, sweat perhaps, something else that he cannot place. Something mysterious. More praises get whispered into his ear, praising him and his moans and how little his legs shake and how he’s not moving his hips. He doesn’t dare to. He does not even dare to open his eyes: he’s not allowed. He wants a kiss; he wants to be praised; he wants to come; he wants to be claimed; he wants to be enveloped in this scent; he wants this pleasure never to end. He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know how to ask for it.  _

_ He gets his praises. He gets to be enveloped in the scent, mint and wood all around him and in his nose, a warm body pressed against his chest, hand moving faster and faster. Finally, he gets a kiss, minty like the scent around him, fresh and exciting, a kiss that is almost enough to knock the breath out of him. He gets a thumb pressing over his slit and he- _

Daniel came with a strangled moan, covering his fist with come. As he was still panting, pushing his hair away from his face, he let the water wash over him again, to wash away the lube and sweat and come and any other grime on him. His brain was empty for a while, almost as if a quick restart, and as he put his head under the water, his mind kicked back into gear. What had gotten him this excited? Now that he thought about it, he could not remember what kind of a scent had caught his attention. He probably had just not taken enough time for himself. Too much work, too little self-love. 

He washed himself quickly, his own shower gel smothering any other nodes of scent that may have excited his brain and his cock. His deodorant followed, and then the scent of clean clothes. By the time he floated into the kitchen, he had already forgotten about it, now fixated on the smells that a good homemade meal would entail.

\--

Far away, hidden behind doors and telepathic shields, Eckhart was getting ready to go to work. Undershirt, deodorant, slacks, a nice button-up, a jacket, socks and shoes, in that exact order. And then, cologne. Ortega had teased him once that he smelled more like a hiker in the woods with a habit of chewing gum but he quite liked the cologne. It was a safe smell. It made people like him - or at least the persona of a fancy, smooth, slightly boring guy that he had built. It was not too strong, but lingered in the air for a while, clinging to his skin even after he got out of his suits. Eh, Ortega did not know anything about colognes.

Marcia, bless her heart, picked up on the new cologne as soon as he made his way into the building. “Smelling good!” she praised, looking up at him, and Eckhart smiled, shrugging a bit. “New cologne?” she asked as he hung up his jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. 

“It’s new, yes. I thought I could try something out,” he admitted, heading towards the back where he usually worked when he actually had  **work** to do, however rarely that happened. But Marcia did not let him off that easily, leaning over the counter a bit, sniffing the air around him.

“Are you trying to impress someone? A nice good date coming up?” She asked, winking, and Eckhart laughed, shrugging a bit. Maybe he was trying to impress. There was no harm in that, wanting to impress a few friends, old and new alike. As he walked to the back room he hummed a melody of something he had heard in someone’s thoughts. Herald’s perhaps, he was quite easy to read after all. What was Herald up to anyway, Eckhart pondered. Hopefully, he was resting his knee, maybe looking into getting a brace for it. Nevertheless, he would ask Herald the next time if he was taking care of his body.

**Author's Note:**

> Big self-indulgence hours on main. 
> 
> On tumblr @softproko.


End file.
